A Lonely Night on Google
by 3seconds
Summary: It's a practical and informed choice, and the best in its price bracket. Sherlock makes sure of that. It's the least he can do for his friends. A missing scene set at the end of The Six Thatchers, a day or two after Mary's death (but before her 'Miss Me?/Save John' DVD arrives).


**Summary:** It's a practical and informed choice, and the best in it's price bracket. Sherlock makes sure of that. It's the least he can do for friends.A missing scene set at the end of The Six Thatchers, a day or two after Mary's death (but before her 'Miss Me?/Save John' DVD arrives).

* * *

 ** _Kitchen/Lounge of Molly Hooper's flat. Nighttime._** _It's mostly dark. Molly sits sideways with her back against the arm of the sofa. The only illumination comes from a small light above the hob in the kitchen and the screen of the laptop Molly has propped on her knees. The harsh blue computer light betrays the fact that she's been crying recently, accentuating her puffy and red-rimmed eyes. She takes a sip of tea, sets the cup on the coffee table and continues scrolling down the screen with a sigh._

 _A clatter comes from outside, then the door between the kitchen and the terrace swings open. Molly cranes to peer around the breakfast bar without moving from her seat on the sofa._

 **MOLLY:** I did give you a key.

 _Sherlock materializes out of the shadows, slides out of his coat and drapes it over the back of a chair as he makes his way into the room._

 **SHERLOCK:** I felt like climbing.

 **MOLLY:** ...and avoiding cameras?

 **SHERLOCK:** Possibly.

 **MOLLY** ( _gesturing to her mug_ ): Kettle's maybe still warm if you want some.

 **SHERLOCK** : Top up?

 _Molly nods and he takes her cup as he moves around the bar and back into the kitchen proper. He lays his hand against the side of the kettle, then switches it on, pulls a box of tea and a second mug from the cupboards and leans against the work top while the water reheats._

 **SHERLOCK** ( _after a long pause_ ): How's John?

 **MOLLY:** He's angry, of course.

 _She notices Sherlock's posture tense slightly and continues._

 **MOLLY:** It's natural, you know…part of grieving. He just needs time. He was sleeping when I left.

 _Sherlock tilts his head to one side and skeptically wrinkles the top of his nose at her._

 **MOLLY:** He'll probably sleep all night. I gave him a dose of diazepam.

 _Sherlock's eyes widen. The kettle clicks off and he turns to tend it, making two mugs of tea, which he carries back into the lounge and sets on the coffee table. Molly scoots her feet up so he can sit on the other side of the sofa._

 **SHERLOCK:** John willingly took a sedative?

 **MOLLY:** Nope.

 _She pops the 'p' in a strikingly good imitation of Sherlock. One corner of his mouth twitches in what might lead to either a knowing smile or a look of pride in different circumstances, but disappears an instant later._

 **MOLLY:** Snuck it into his tea. He was exhausted and he hadn't got a wink since...since...

 _Her voice falters and it looks for a moment like she might cry again. Sherlock briefly wraps his hand around the top of her foot where it rests next to his thigh. Molly picks up her mug, blows on it and takes a sip._

 **SHERLOCK** ( _registering her bedraggled appearance and puffy eyes):_ You haven't slept much either.

 **MOLLY:** It doesn't matter. I'll be fine.

 _He starts to respond, then thinks better of it and snaps his mouth closed again. After a moment, he changes tracks._

 **SHERLOCK:** And Rosie?

 **MOLLY:** Rosie's a little trooper, poor thing. So, this is the strangest turn up…Did you ever meet Clara? John's sister's ex?

 _Sherlock makes a non-committal noise._

 **MOLLY:** Well, she rang him out of the blue today. Seems she's in London for the week with nothing on. When she found out about Mar...Mm...what happened, she came round and insisted on staying for a day or two to help look after the both of them. Rosie took to her right away.

 **SHERLOCK** ( _with the ghost of a smile_ ): That's good. John always liked Clara.

 **MOLLY:** Such a lovely coincidence, her being in town. Odd how sometimes when things are at their worst, what you need just sort of shows up out... of... no...

 _Molly trails off in realization, then narrows her eyes him_. _Sherlock widens his own eyes and lifts a shoulder in a silent, overly innocent 'What?' gesture, challenging her to push the subject. She chews the inside of her lip, her expression softening and goes back to what she was doing on the computer without further comment._

 _They sit in silence for a few minutes. Sherlock leans his head back against the sofa cushions, closing his eyes and steepling his fingers. Molly continues scrolling on her laptop and sipping her tea. About the time it seems Sherlock has retreated into his mind palace, Molly yawns and he glances over at her._

 **SHERLOCK:** What are you doing?

 **MOLLY:** Nothing. Not important. ( _putting down her mug and closing the lid on the laptop_ ) I'll finish later.

 **SHERLOCK** ( _in a questioning/warning tone_ ): Molly...

 _He reaches over and pulls the laptop out of her hands. She purses her lips, but doesn't stop him taking it. He opens the screen and pulls up the browser. It's on a Google page showing photos of various models of caskets._

 **MOLLY:** The cremation is Friday. The funeral director needs a decision on the casket in the morning, and John was in no state. I... ( _her voice threatens to break again, but she keeps it under control this time_ ) ...I thought if I could narrow it down to one or two for him to pick from…I don't know. Might make it easier...a bit. You'd think with what I do, I'd be more familiar. I never knew there were so many options.

 _Molly waves a hand at the screen, blinks heavily, then yawns again. Sherlock nods, his gaze shifting from Molly to the screen and back. Molly's brow slowly furls. She glances blearily at her tea mug, then questioningly at Sherlock, her head lolling a bit. His lips press together into a gentle smile._

 **MOLLY:** You berk. You snuck diazepam into my tea, didn't you?

 **SHERLOCK:** Yep.

 ** _Nine hours later. Morning._** _Sunlight streams through the kitchen window, and steam curls slowly from the lid of the coffee pot. It sits in a neat line on the breakfast bar next to Molly's laptop and phone. Sherlock is nowhere to be seen and his coat is no longer draped over the chair._

 _Molly stumbles into the kitchen wearing a dressing gown thrown loosely over the t-shirt she was wearing the night before and a pair of cotton knickers. At the sight of the coffee, she detours from her path to the sink, where she'd planned to fill the kettle, and grabs a mug down from the cupboard instead._

 _Just as she reaches for the coffee pot, her phone rings. The screen shows 'Clara'. Molly taps the speaker icon._

 **MOLLY** ( _pouring coffee into her a mug_ ): Hi Clara, everything go okay overnight?

 **CLARA** ( _over the phone speaker_ ): As well as can be expected.

 **MOLLY:** Was he angry I drugged his tea?

 **CLARA:** Only a tiny bit. Said he's had worse…not sure what he meant, exactly, but anyway… Listen, I wanted to call to say thank you for taking care of the casket thing.

 _Molly sets the coffee pot down and gives her phone a confused look._

 **MOLLY:** Wha…?

 **CLARA:** It made things so much easier. John's more rested today, but still in no state to make decisions. It would have been much too much if you hadn't narrowed down the lot. I hope it wasn't too much work.

 _As she's talking, a text pops up on Molly's phone._

Expect a call from Clara. I took the liberty of texting her 3 casket options using your phone. Each was the best available in its price bracket.-SH

 **MOLLY** ( _trying to talk and read the text at the same time_ ): Well, I didn't really…I mean it wasn't…

 **CLARA:** Please tell me you weren't up all night researching online.

 _Two more texts pop up in rapid succession._

I also notified the funeral director of John's choice (mahogany with nickel hardware). -SH

I hope you slept well. -SH

 **MOLLY** ( _with a wry smile_ ): Oh, no worries on that account, I definitely got some sleep.

 _Rosie begins crying in the background of the call_.

 **CLARA:** Well, there's my cue to ring off.

 **MOLLY:** Okay, I'll be round in a bit to relieve you.

 **CLARA:** You're an absolute doll. Ta.

 _Molly picks up her phone, ends the call and texts a reply._

If you ever drug me again, you'll be the one who needs a coffin. -MH

 _She eyes her coffee suspiciously, sniffs it before taking a sip, then sends a follow up message._

Must've been a lonely night. -MH

* * *

 **Author's Note:** This idea has been bouncing around in my head ever since The Final Problem aired. When Sherlock describes the coffin as "a practical and informed choice" and "best available in this price bracket." and John comments "There's a lonely night on Google", I immediately KNEW that Sherlock had somehow been the one to pick out Mary's coffin. Just took me a while to work out how it happened exactly.


End file.
